


Mission Report 1952

by TheBloodOrange



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Black Widow (Movie 2020), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Kid Natasha Romanov, Love, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, POV Natasha Romanov, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Past Lives, Past Natasha Romanov/Alexei Shostakov | Alexi Shostakov - Freeform, Protective Natasha Romanov, Red Room (Marvel), Russian Bucky Barnes, Russian Natasha Romanov, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBloodOrange/pseuds/TheBloodOrange
Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes met each other in a past life- when Natasha was known only as 'Natalia The Black Widow' and Bucky was known as 'James The Winter Soldier'.They had both always been told to follow orders and serve Russia and they did but when they get sent on an undercover mission in Italy to take out an Ex-Agent but things aren't what they seem and they haven't been told the truth.Set in Russia (USSR) in the '50s
Relationships: Ivan Petrovich & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Alexei Shostakov | Alexi Shostakov, Natasha Romanov/Alexei Shostakov | Alexi Shostakov, Yelena Belova & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Mission Report 1952

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in Russia in the early '50s when Bucky is the winter soldier and Natasha is nearing the end of her training. Enjoy Xxx All text with ^ at the beginning and end it so show when they are speaking in Russian

Mission Report 1952  
The first thing James felt was cold. A blinding numbing frost that bit at his limbs and froze together his lips, as he opened his eyes he was met with that familiar smell of oil and gunpowder that pared quite well with the three stoic faces peering down on him with guns aimed at his head.

"Soldat." The one to the left acknowledged- he was a tall and muscular man with rough stubble and a dark complexion there was a large scar that stretched across his left eyebrow. James remembered that man by the name of Dmitri.

The other two were about the same height as Dmitri- the blonde one was slightly younger with striking blue eyes, he went by the name of Igor.

The third man was bald, much older than Dmitri and Igor and you could tell- not only by the wrinkles that lined his face but by the haunted look in his eyes. He had seen much and James knew this man by the name of Viktor.

All three men were his handlers for the moment- James was sure he had been accompanied by them on multiple occasions but from his knowledge, they were only temporary. At least that's what they had told him the last time he went into Cryo.

"What year is it?" Viktor snarled, he spoke with a thick accent as he lit a match, presumably for a cigar.

"1951…?" James tried, he wasn't sure how long he had been in for but it couldn't have been too long because his hair wasn't that much longer than when he had gone in.

"Wrong. 1952 you have been out for 5 months- they wanted longer I say No." He spoke between drags. "You are good at fighting- I say to the men. He trains them. He will break them- man says yes." He didn't quite understand what Viktor was trying to say, it would have been much easier if he just spoke Russian.

^"You want me to train soldiers?"^ James asked, slipping into Russian, Igor and Dmitri shared uneasy glances and Viktor just smirked. James had trained others before, surely it couldn't be so difficult.

^"Not soldiers- ballerinas."^ It would have been funny if it was a joke but judging by the look on all three men's faces they were deadly serious.

Viktor let out a deep and husky laugh as he sat down opposite James, continuing to take occasional drags from his cigar as he spoke. 

James looked around the room he was in, it was dark like most rooms they kept him in. Simply lit by a lamp that hung from the ceiling, the room used to be an old bar that was obvious as the bar in the corner still had Vodkas and whiskeys on the shelves.  
"You want a drink?" Viktor asked leaning forward on the table, James didn't flinch nor did he have to answer as Viktor motioned for Igor to get the bottle. As he came back and placed it on the table James continued to stare at his handler.

"You think I poison it?" He questioned, the old man leaned over and grabbed the vodka, throwing the lid back onto the table and taking a large swig. Igor and Dmitri looked impressed by their bosses' clear attempt to intimidate the soldier.

Viktor handed him the bottle and James took it, before drinking it he sniffed the lid. Pure alcohol. He took a small swig before placing it back.

"You want me to teach dance?" This query earned chuckles from the men, Igor looked to Dmitri and the man began to speak.

^"Lovely Russian girls. Purebred- all in service of the motherland- most are small and brittle and easily broken, others are like diamonds, shiny, beautiful and sharp."^ He said with a smirk

What his handlers wanted him training girls for he wasn't sure, he knew a handful of soldiers back in Siberia that were strong and skilled but easily wiped out by him or other men.

^"Soldat. Not only are these girls bred for this- they are very skilled, one girl."^ Viktor took a swig. ^"Small annoying thing, gave me this."^ He pointed to a mark on his arm, visibly newer than the rest.

"I used to train them- they got too much for me, the ballerinas do not play. They are good- but like I told Madam B you are better." The bald man smirked. Viktor stood and turned, leaving the bottle on the table. Dmitri and Igor stayed in their positions opposite the assassin.

^"These girls…am I expected to kill them…?"^ James asked quietly, Viktor didn't answer he just placed his cigar between his lips and laughed leaving the room.

Out of all his handlers, he hates Viktor the least, although he was a cruel old man who had no compassion he still spoke to James as if he was something other than a weapon, he got offered things like Cigars, drink, and food.

Sometimes Igor and Dmitri would bring girls to the quarters for their...own use and for some reason James always appreciated it when they offered him the same treatment- he never accepted it as something in the back of his mind always told him it was wrong.

Maybe moving up north would help him discover whomever he was supposed to be. James knew he was The Winter Soldier and he was owned by Hydra- that art of him was not his to claim though, he needed something new and exciting and how hard could training Ballerinas be?

■▪︎●▪︎■

The car ride to their destination was long, all four of them were in a big van, piled in the back was ammunition and all sorts of the armory. Viktor allowed him a seat in the second row alone, the other three men sat behind him as the driver, Anton hummed to himself.  
He was certain they had pistols aimed at his head but didn't mind as he was allowed to sit alone.

They traveled through a range of environments, they went from traveling through planes of grass to snow-covered ferns. He had seen it all before but there was something about snow that calmed him, it was free- it had grace as it fled from clouds and settled neatly on the ground.

Jame's hands and feet were bound together with handcuffs that emitted a blue glow. He was sure his arm could easily break out of it if he tried.

^"How long till we arrive?"^ Dmitri spoke up from the back, Anton checked his wristwatch with the tilt of his head.

"45 minutes, you want to stop?" The driver asked. Viktor let out a small huff and the car began to slowly pull over.

They were now in a snow-covered forest- though he could not feel it through the layers of clothes and the serum he could tell his handlers were shivering.  
All of the men aside from Igor stepped out, the blonde leaned forward slightly over the seat.

^"Are you excited to see the dancers?"^ The soviet mocked. 

James gave him a side-eye and continued to stare ahead, he was sure if he brought his hands up quickly enough he could knock Igor out and make a run for it, but they would find him. And besides, he was doing this for Russia and Hydra and he would not let them down.

The others throughout their cigarettes and huddled back into the car with grumbles as they continued to talk, something about a redhead and Madam B, Anton re-started the car and continued down the snowy path as he hummed the tune of some old Russian lullaby.

The rest of the ride was boring- James switched focus from outside to the conversation behind him or the subtle noise of the tires against the gravel, it was early morning when he noticed the large guarded house at the end of the driveway.

It was a large house if he could see over the large brick wall surrounding it, atop the walls sat a ring of sharp and tangled wire- why would they need a barbed wire for dancers? At each door stood an armed guard and dog as they drove through the gates two men stopped them.

Anton stepped out and shuffled around taking ID out of his jacket and handing it to them, they looked pleased and one of them took a glance inside the car- James kept up appearances and smirked at the man who got the message and backed off.

Anton gestured for them to get out of the car, he allowed Igor, Dmitri, and Viktor to hop out first before they opened his door, Viktor looked James straight in his eyes and huffed.

“I unlock these now.” He grunted pointing to the shackles, he leaned down and unbuckled the ones around his legs looking up at the soldier, “You don't need me to help you for those.” Viktor chuckled.

James would have preferred Viktor to just unlock the shackles but gathered that he wanted him to show off in front of the others. James sighed and clenched his metal fist before pulling both arms in the opposite direction breaking the handcuffs.

“That good?” He smirked and his handlers smiled -God they were strange- The guards walked them forward toward the doors, the smaller guard took out a key from his pocket and began unlocking the various locks.  
As he entered he was met with a barrage of bleak greys and greens. 

The main entrance was dull the only source of light being from the windows each of which had bars- it was unsettling. This didn't feel like a home for dancers instead it felt like a prison. 

He wondered why they kept the girls in such a way and quickly noticed there was actually no girls in sight, he could hear footsteps below him- but without his enhancements, he would have missed it. 

A small lady walked into view from the shadowed corner, she was a small petite woman with spider-like fingers that were curled around her hands. Her piercing grey eyes seemed to be taking in every inch of James as she walked closer to him. 

She was small but he could tell she was of authority as the men behind him backed away, she wore a neat black suit- her silver hair restricted behind her head in a tight bun. 

“Soldat. My name is Madame B- you will go by Soldat or commander when in my presence, what you call yourself with the other men I do not care but whilst with my girls, you will not tell them your name. Understood?” He was slightly shocked but nodded nonetheless, she had an accent but if you did not look for one you would have not heard it, she was a spy.

^“Now are you ready to meet the girls?”^ Madame didn’t give him time to answer instead she began to walk down the hall heels clicking against the porcelain white tiles, as they walked further the hall got dimmer and all sound began to drown into the quiet hum of the lights above.

As they both turned the corner James took a double-take, ahead of him stood sixteen girls, all in the same black leggings and top, all with their hair pulled into tight ponytails all cut just below shoulder length. ALL sixteen of them stood like statues with their hands clasped behind their back, a few girls spared looks at James but the others just stared straight ahead like the perfect soldiers.

He looked across the row, most of them were plain looking, most of them pale- likely from the lack of light- with Brown eyes and Brunette or Blonde hair but one girl the furthest from him stood out.

Unlike the others her hair was a deep crimson, not a single hair out of place, she was paler than the others allowing her emerald eyes to shine through- James was intrigued to say the least. 

Her eyes and characteristics gave away no emotion as she stared into a void ahead of her, she did not seem to care that he had walked in the room and was obviously awaiting instructions from Madame. B. 

^“Girls. This is your new trainer, he is known by many of you as ‘The winter soldier-”^ They didn’t gasp or shriek instead they allowed their eyes to trail over him, except the redhead she kept formation, ^“But you may call him Sir or Commander.”^ She spoke as she paced past them, Madame's eyes met his and she motioned for him to speak.

"When speaking with me English will be used -it will allow you to perfect your speech. Russian will only be used if necessary, now I want all of your names starting from you." He pointed to the girl closest to him. 

They each went down the line reciting their names and ages, they were all seventeen to twenty, he paid attention to the last four girls the furthest from him. 

A short Blonde girl with light blue eyes glanced at him before answering. "Irina Annikov- 18." Her face was dotted with freckles and James looked at her figure- she was small and slim. Easily broke. 

The brunette beside her blinked twice and took her turn. 

"Petra Shaston- 20." She did look slightly older than Irina but nonetheless was a sturdy girl who didn't look like she backed down easily. 

"Yelena Belova- 19." Yelena's glare rivaled that of the redheads, both stayed information- she had bleach blonde hair with roots obviously peaking through and the soldier wondered if she had been undercover.

James took a slight step forward before the redhead could talk, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. For once she broke her trance and met his gaze. 

"Natalia Romanova- 20," Natalia said a small smirk dancing on her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!!! Leave a Kudos and Comment! Constructive criticism is welcomed as I haven't given this to my betta reader XXx


End file.
